Silence
by raccoonsmate4life
Summary: There are a million thoughts screaming in his mind but all he hears is the deafening silence on the other end of the phone.
1. Chapter 1

_This is a speculation fic of sorts – not really something I think might actually happen, but it is something that's been running through my mind. Based on a combo of the early-season spoiler that Deeks goes back to LAPD and the IA investigation introduced in Fighting Shadows (and my naïve hope that we would get a Deeks/Kensi/Densi-centric finale/cliffhanger)._

_As always, I don't own anything related to NCIS:LA (except the DVDs)._

* * *

"Detective!"

Deeks groans as the walk to his desk is interrupted by the rather irritated tone in his boss's voice. He drops his head and takes a deep breath, all he wants to do is sit down and get through the day.

He shakes his head sadly when he thinks of the measly, uninspiring to-do list he has these days. His idea of a good day used to include waking up with Kensi, catching some bad guys and saving the world, hopefully avoiding paperwork, and going home to spend the night with Kensi.

For reasons he doesn't think he will ever comprehend, his days still begin and end the same way as before, with his beautiful, strong, and stubborn girlfriend-slash-partner. He whole-heartedly believes that's the only thing keeping him somewhat sane right now. Because between the hours of nine and five, his only goals are to sit at his desk, rifle through old case files, maybe beat a few levels of Candy Crush, and talk to as few people as possible.

It's been the same routine for two weeks now. Two long, stressful, lonely, and boring weeks. That's how long he's been on desk duty. That's how long it's been since he was last in the field with his partner. Hell, that's how long it's been since he's even been _at _work with her.

Two weeks.

That's how long it's been since Internal Affairs demanded that he stop working in the field and return to LAPD headquarters for the time being while they continue to conduct their investigation into him.

Exhaling, he backtracks a couple of steps and stands in the doorway of Lieutenant Bates' office.

"Sir?"

"You're late," Bates grumbles, not looking up from whatever he is reading, "You're supposed to be here by nine."

Deeks rolls his eyes, an annoyed habit he has apparently picked up from Kensi, and sighs, "Bates, it's not even 9:15. And what does it even matter? I'm just going to sit at my desk until it's time to go back home, just like every day."

Recalling his morning, he finds it virtually impossible to feel even a little sorry for being late. Probably because his delayed start was the result of a surprise, albeit _very_ welcomed, guest joining him in the shower. He can still feel Kensi's fingers tugging the hair at the nape of his neck as she kissed him fiercely and with a hint of desperation while the hot water rained down on them.

So, yeah, sue him, he can't really muster up feelings of guilt as he remembers her wet, naked body pressed against him when he was supposed to be leaving for work.

Bates looks up from the file in his hands and leans back in his chair, "Listen kid," he starts, interrupting Deeks' little trip down memory lane, "it doesn't look like IAB is going to stop digging up whatever they can on you anytime soon. Just play by their rules for now before you get into more trouble."

Deeks can't help the unamused chuckle that escapes, "If they're going to use my ten minute tardiness today as an example in whatever case they're building against me, I think I like my chances."

Bates glares up at him, but Deeks doesn't wait for a response before he steps back and walks away.

When he reaches his desk, he drops his messenger bag on the floor and then drops himself unceremoniously into his chair. The desktop itself is practically bare except for a phone, a stack of case files, and a thin layer of dust that has apparently taken up permanent residence on the faux-wood laminate because no matter how many times Deeks wipes down the desk, he can't seem to get rid of all of it.

Leaning back in his chair and crossing his feet on top of the desk, Deeks links his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling. It's part of his morning ritual here, to think about everything while he looks for answers in the old ceiling tiles.

Eventually, he will give in to another day of doing two things he hates most about being a cop - sitting at a desk and paperwork. But for now, he replays in his mind everything that unfolded that brought him back to this God-forsaken place.

Weeks ago, he had lied to Hetty when she asked if there was anything, besides Kensi, that Internal Affairs could use against him. It was obvious by the look she had given him that she knew he wasn't being truthful and he hadn't needed to look at Kensi to know that she wasn't buying it either.

He truly doesn't know what IA's endgame is or exactly what they plan to use against him, but he does know of certain things that could easily be twisted and manipulated to fit whatever agenda they have. And while he's a good cop, defending the scum of the earth as a public defender and then pretending to _be_ the scum of the earth as an undercover cop certainly opens a few doors for them.

He had felt virtually no hesitation in withholding information from Hetty - God knows the woman hasn't done anything to earn or keep his trust in the past year and a half but his reasons for lying to Kensi were completely different from his reasons for lying to Hetty and that is what he is still struggling with.

There is no one else on this planet he wants in his corner – in all things – more than Kensi Marie Blye. She's smart, determined, capable, and he has no doubts that she would protect him at all costs. But therein lies the crux of his worry, if Internal Affairs ends up costing him his career and she ends up going down with him, he would never forgive himself.

Deeks lets out a long, slow breath and puts his feet back on the floor. Leaning his elbows on the desk, his mind drifts back to that night they had spoken with Hetty. He had known that Kensi was unhappy about the whole situation and was going to want answers. He just wasn't ready to give them.

* * *

_After leaving the Mission, the drive home had been silent other than a quick agreement to pick up a pizza for dinner. They didn't speak as they were eating either, each of them seemingly trying to figure out who was going to start the conversation. _

"_You lied to Hetty," Kensi says, getting right to the point as they finished up their meal. _

_There is nothing accusatory in her tone, but Deeks can't help but feel a bit defensive, "Can you blame me?" he asks, his words more clipped than he meant them to be._

"_No, and that wasn't my point," she snaps in return._

"_You don't want me to lie to you," he responds, his words softer as he leans back on the couch and pulls Kensi's feet into his lap._

"_I don't want you to do this by yourself," she corrects, pulling her feet away and putting them back on the floor. She leans forward with her elbows on her knees and turns her head to look at him, "And I don't want you to lie to me."_

"_Kens-"_

"_No, Deeks," she speaks firmly, "I know there are things we still don't know about each other's pasts and I know you want to protect me...to protect us. But I want you to let me help you. When I said 'all in,' I meant it, Deeks. In _everything_."_

"_I know," he fidgets with his hair before reaching over to grab one of her hands, "I just don't want them to have more reason to keep following you. I want them to leave you out of this."_

_He sees her readying another argument and puts his hand up to stop her and cuts her off with a quick shake of his head._

"_Kensi. The more they even _think_ you know, the more they'll push. And if I go down, and they find out that you knew things…" he trails off, letting out a long sigh, "As my current partner - my current partner who is also my girlfriend - you would be putting your own career at risk. I can't let that happen. I can't be responsible for that."_

_Letting out a frustrated grunt, Kensi's gaze doesn't waver, her eyes sparking with that fire he loves so much, "I don't like this."_

_He snorts and shakes his head slightly as a tiny smirk crosses his face, "I think I'd be offended if you did."_

_Letting out a soft chuckle of her own, Kensi sits back and relaxes against his side, "If this gets out of control or you get in too deep or you need _anything_-"_

_"You will be the very first person I come to," Deeks wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, "I promise."_

_"I still don't like it," she responds quietly._

_"I don't either, Kens. I don't either."_

* * *

"Earth to Kensi," Sam teases as he waves his hand in front of her face.

Snapping out of the trance she was in and focusing her gaze on Sam, she doesn't try to hide the frustration, which has become her default emotion over these past two weeks. She huffs out an irritated breath, "What?"

Sam gives her a sad smile, "Come on, we need to go pick up a witness."

"What about Callen?" Kensi asks. It's almost lunch time and she's not really wanting to give up her daily routine of eating her feelings at whatever food truck she stops at before she goes to the firing range to release some of her pent up anger.

"Thought you might need to get out, maybe talk—"

She shakes her head vigorously, "What I _need_, Sam, is my partner back."

She hates this. She hates needing anyone. But apparently that's what Deeks has done to her over the last five years – made her need him. And the sad thing is, she still _has_ him - she still sees him every night, every morning. But right now, her _partner_ isn't _here_. He hasn't been here for two weeks and being without him at work, flying solo around the mission – or worse yet, being the third wheel to Callen and Sam in the field – it's more difficult than she could have imagined.

Between her time in Afghanistan and Deeks spending all those months hidden away in the aftermath of the Sidorov case, Kensi has had plenty of unwanted practice working without him, but this time it's different. This time, they're more than just partners, they're both still in LA, and no one is on a bogus mission or recovering from unimaginable torture.

But Deeks is hiding again – only this time he's hiding his problems instead of himself.

She's heard his reasons for keeping her away from the whole IA situation no less than five times. And while she wants to be understanding, it's a challenge trying to ignore her instinct to help him and it doesn't stop her from wishing he would just talk to her.

She glances up at Sam who looks as though he's waiting for her to keep fighting him, but she doesn't have the energy, "Fine. But I don't want to talk." She's up and walking outside before Sam can even comprehend that she actually agreed to go.

. . . .

Kensi is grateful that the first few minutes of their drive are blissfully quiet. She is trying to focus on anything other than wishing Deeks was the one in the car with her. Instead, all she notices are things that remind her of him; the waves and the beach, his favorite food truck spot, the sky and how it matches his eyes…

_Damn it, Kensi, stop being ridiculous, you're going to see him tonight._

Her thoughts are interrupted when Sam clears his throat.

"Kensi, look—"

"I said I didn't want to talk, Sam," she responds tiredly, not taking her eyes off the road in front of them.

Sam nods, clearly expecting her reaction, "You don't have to talk, just listen." He glances over at her and watches the reluctance settle on her face before he continues, "I know you don't like that Deeks is keeping you away from whatever game Internal Affairs is playing but he just wants—"

"To protect me," she cuts him off, "And us. I know. But I don't need him to protect me and we are better when we work together."

Sam smiles at her, "Believe me, he knows that, probably better than any of us. But whatever is going on, whatever he's hiding, it's not because he doesn't trust you or that he thinks you can't protect yourself. I know you know that, you just have to remember it."

Kensi continues to stare out the window. Sam is right, and she does know that and it's not anything she hasn't told herself time and time again since the day they first noticed the detective following them. But knowing it and accepting it are two different things.

"When you were looking into your father's death and then went off the grid to track down Peter Clairmont, why didn't you let Deeks help you?"

Kensi's head snaps up and she stares at Sam, caught completely off guard by the change of topic and the question. She's speechless for a brief moment, and then understanding hits her like truck.

She sighs, "To protect him. Because it wasn't his fight."

Looking over at Sam, she rolls her eyes at the Deeks-like smirk on his face.

"Okay, fine," she groans, "but I still don't like it."

Sam's light laughter fills the car, "I never would have guessed."

* * *

Time may fly when you're having fun, but it sure seems to come to a screeching halt when you're desperate to be almost anywhere but where you are. Deeks thinks he probably shouldn't be surprised at how every day seems to drag on slower than the one before, but yet, he's proven wrong every single day.

After his unwanted detour to Bates' office this morning, he had succeeded in keeping to himself all the way through lunch. But now, with nothing between him and the end of the day but four empty hours, the boredom is really setting in. In what has become almost as routine as his morning solo think tank session, he pulls out his phone and taps out a quick text to Kensi, '_Hey Sugarbear…dinner's on me tonight…your choice. Just tell me what to get, where to bring it, and when to be there. Be safe.'_

He stares at the phone screen long enough that he can almost hear Kensi telling him to stop being creepy. Chuckling to himself, he puts the phone on top of his desk and grabs the next case file from the slowly dwindling pile. Brushing up on the details of his old cases isn't what he wants to be doing today, or any day for that matter, but he hopes that maybe it will help pass the time.

. . . .

After almost two hours, Deeks drops the folder into his lap and rubs his tired eyes. Picking up his phone and illuminating the screen, he can't help but automatically feel a little uneasy about the lack of response from Kensi.

Given their line of work, it's not as though it's abnormal for her or any of them to be unreachable for chunks of time, but the pangs of worry he feels are an ever-present, nagging side effect of not being there to watch her back and they're currently hitting him at a rapid speed.

Closing his eyes and leaning forward with his elbows on the desk, his forehead pressed to his knuckles, he starts making a mental list of all the logical reasons that could explain why he hasn't heard back from her. While he was hoping it would help to alleviate the feeling of dread that has settled in the pit of his stomach, all he is able to focus on is that a lot of those logical reasons involve nasty criminals, guns, and hospitals.

Unwilling to continue torturing himself with the internal 'what-if' game, he gives up and decides to call her. Selecting her name from his speed dial list, he tries to convince himself that he's being ridiculous and that Kensi is fine…good, even. And surely someone would have called him if that wasn't true. Right?

As he holds the phone to his ear and listens to it ring, he's silently begging her to pick up. He wants her to tease him for his frenzied concern and to demand Bulgogi for dinner and to tell him to pick up Monty before heading over to her place after work. He just wants to hear her voice.

When the call connects and he hears the voice on the other end of the line, those annoying pangs of worry disappear. But only because he's fairly certain that his heart is about to beat right out of his chest.

Because the voice he hears isn't Kensi's.

"Sam?" He is trying desperately to keep his voice even but he's pretty sure he's failing, "Is Kensi there?"

He hears the muffled voice of Callen in the background before he hears Sam respond quietly, "It's Deeks."

"Sam!" he repeats, louder, "What's going on? Where's Kensi?"

This time, Deeks hears Sam let out a long, slow breath and that single, wordless response practically knocks the wind out of him.

Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.

A split second later, and without waiting to hear what happened or to find out where he is even supposed to go, Deeks is on his feet and rushing out of the building.

There are a million thoughts screaming in his mind but all he hears is the deafening silence on the other end of the phone.

* * *

_..tbc.._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you SO much for the wonderful feedback about the first chapter. I apologize for this chapter taking longer to get out than I'd planned - but real life got in the way and I was dealing with some writer's block, but it's finally finished.  
_

* * *

_Three Hours Earlier_

The drive to their witness's house was taking entirely too long in Kensi's opinion. She thought she preferred the quiet today but as it turns out, she's far too used to having her ear talked off most of the time she's in the car.

"So, uh…how are Michelle and the kids?" she asks, looking over at Sam.

If he thinks anything of the fact that apparently Kensi can no longer deal with the lack of conversation, he doesn't let on, "They're great. Kam keeps asking when you and Deeks can babysit again."

"Oh…"she hesitates briefly, "yeah, that…uh…that would be fun."

Sam glances at her then, chuckling at her unease, "Don't worry, I know Deeks ends up doing all the work and waits on both of you girls hand and foot all night."

Kensi shakes her head and laughs lightly, "Last time, he gave us pedicures," she recalls, smiling softly at the memory. Then, as if realizing that she maybe shouldn't have revealed that little tidbit, she glares at Sam, "DON'T tell him I told you that."

Trying to suppress the laughter that seems desperate to escape, Sam shakes his head.

"What…?" Kensi eyes him suspiciously.

"He's got it bad," he explains and then quickly holds his hand up to cut off the retort he sees on Kensi's lips, "That's a good thing, Kensi. You two are a good thing."

"I thought you didn't like the idea of your coworkers dating?" she questions, remembering their conversation from a couple of months ago – the day she and Deeks had learned that their relationship was the worst kept secret in Los Angeles.

"As coworkers, it's risky, for you two and for all of us," Sam clarifies, "but as my _friends_, I'm happy that you two are happy. You're good for each other."

She can feel the blush rising up to her cheeks and she smiles at Sam's words. Unsure how to respond, she simply nods and gives him a small smile. Turning her head to gaze out the window, Kensi lets out a small sigh as she settles in for the remainder of their drive.

She is so lost in thought that she doesn't know if it's been five minutes or twenty when she suddenly hears Sam telling her that they've arrived at the witness's house. She looks at Sam blankly for a second and shakes her head slightly as though to clear her mind, "Right, sorry. Let's go."

. . . .

"I'm starving," Kensi complains as she and Sam step back outside.

Their witness had proven to be rather unhelpful. After she refused to leave with the agents to go to the boatshed, they interviewed her for over an hour and hit dead end after dead end. Either she was too afraid to divulge any information or she truly didn't have any that was pertinent to their investigation.

If Kensi was grumpy before this little excursion, she was doubly so now that they'd basically wasted an hour _and_ missed lunch.

"I don't keep Twinkies in my car," Sam teases, "you're going to have to wait until we get back to the mission."

"Ha ha," Kensi rolls her eyes. Standing beside the passenger side, Kensi pauses and looks across the top of the car, "Hey, Sam?" her voice is softer, more serious, "Thank you, for what you said earlier. It means a lot."

Before Sam can respond, there is sudden movement on the street as a car comes flying around the corner. By the time he sees the barrel of the gun in the open window of the back seat, he barely has time to warn Kensi before the first shot rings out.

The following seconds are a frenzied mess of tires screeching, engines revving, glass shattering, and guns firing. Unable to do more than fire a few shots at the speeding sedan, Sam curses to himself as the car vanishes as quickly as it had appeared.

Silence settles around them as the chaos subsides and as he pulls out is phone to report to Eric, he calls out to Kensi, "You good?"

The only response he gets is a barely audible groan.

"Kensi?" panic is rising in Sam's voice as he quickly strides around to the other side of the car. He isn't prepared for the scene he finds in front of him and he sucks in a quick breath as he drops to the ground beside her.

He almost forgets that he had dialed Eric until he hears the tech operator calling to him on the other end of the line. Snapping back into action, Sam stands up and reaches into his backseat to grab a towel before he turns back to Kensi as he yells over the phone, "Eric, we need an ambulance NOW. Kensi's been shot."

. . . .

As he watches the ambulance speed away, sirens wailing, Sam's phone begins ringing.

"G," he exhales.

"I'm on my way to the hospital, I'll meet you there," Callen informs him. "Eric and Nell are searching Kaleidoscope looking for the car that shot at you two. You didn't catch any of the plate or get a look at anyone inside?"

Sam sighs and climbs into the driver's seat, "The whole thing lasted less than twenty seconds, G. They were gone before I even had time to move out from behind my car."

"How was she?" Callen sounds hesitant to even ask.

"Stable enough for them to take her. Conscious, though she kept drifting off. There was a lot of blood," Sam shakes his head, trying to erase the sight of Kensi lying on the pavement, blood quickly soaking her shirt, from his mind.

"Someone needs to call Deeks."

Sam nods silently as he pulls out of the driveway, "Let me." The words rush out before Sam can even think whether or not he actually wants to be the one to deliver that news.

"You sure? We can just have Hetty do it," Callen offers when he senses the uncertainty in Sam's response.

There is no amusement in the chuckle that escapes Sam, "I think he'd rather talk to me than to Hetty." He knows that there have been trust issues between the two ever since Hetty sent Kensi away last year and he imagines that he'll have better luck keeping Deeks calm.

"Whatever you say, big guy. See you in ten," Callen disconnects the call and Sam makes the rest of the drive to the hospital in complete silence.

. . . .

Sam sinks down into a chair in the waiting room at Pacific Beach Medical Center and pulls out his phone. As he scrolls through his contacts and hovers over Deeks' name, he takes a deep breath. He had decided not to call from the car – telling himself that he didn't want the distraction as he raced along the streets to the hospital and but if he's being honest, he needed the time to prepare himself – but now there's nothing left to do except call even though he still hasn't figured out what to say.

How is he supposed to tell Deeks that his partner took two rounds to the upper body? Or that she was bleeding so heavily that she was drifting in and out of consciousness and was rushed into surgery before he and Callen even arrived at the hospital?

How is he supposed to tell him that his girlfriend, the woman he loves, won't be coming home tonight?

As it turns out, he doesn't have any more time to figure all of that out because while he is busy staring at his own phone, Kensi's phone – which has been in his pocket since the paramedics gave it to him and he'd forgotten he even has – starts ringing. Pulling it out, Sam glances down at the screen even though he's already pretty sure he knows who it is.

_Deeks_.

He sighs and after a slight hesitation, answers the call.

"Deeks."

* * *

_When the call connects and he hears the voice on the other end of the line, those annoying pangs of worry disappear. But only because he's fairly certain that his heart is about to beat right out of his chest. _

_Because the voice he hears isn't Kensi's._

_"Sam?" He is trying desperately to keep his voice even but he's pretty sure he's failing, "Is Kensi there?"_

_He hears the muffled voice of Callen in the background before he hears Sam respond quietly, "It's Deeks."_

_"Sam!" he repeats, louder, "What's going on? Where's Kensi?"_

_This time, Deeks hears Sam let out a long, slow breath and that single, wordless response practically knocks the wind out of him. _

_Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong._

_A split second later, and without waiting to hear what happened or to find out where he is even supposed to go, Deeks is on his feet and rushing out of the building. _

_There are a million thoughts screaming in his mind and all he can focus on is the deafening silence on the other end of the phone._

* * *

It feels like an eternity, but in reality, Deeks only makes it a few steps down the hallway before Sam speaks and stops him in his tracks.

"Deeks? You still there?"

Leaning his back against the closest wall, Deeks drops his head to his chest and closes his eyes. He takes a couple of deep breaths, attempting to prepare himself for whatever Sam is about to tell him. Ultimately, only one thing matters right now.

"Is she…" he exhales sharply, "Is she alive, Sam?"

Before he even finishes asking the question, Deeks can't decide if he actually wants to know yet – he isn't sure if he's ready to hear any of the potential worst-case responses.

A life without her flashes before him - there is so much he hasn't told her, so much he still wants to do with her, and he refuses to think that the life he wants with her is potentially about to turn into a lifetime of dreams that have no chance of coming true.

Sam's response is quick and firm, "Yes–"

"Oh thank God," Deeks whispers to himself as he rubs his hand over his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"—but she's in surgery," Sam explains, his voice laced with an unspoken apology. "We're at Pacific Beach Medical—"

"I'm on my way," Deeks hangs up without waiting for a response and not really wanting to know anything else. She's alive, and that's enough for him right now.

Pushing off the wall, he turns for the main doors of the police building, and breaks into a jog. On his way out, it barely registers that Bates is calling after him, asking him where the hell he's going. But he doesn't hesitate for even a second – he doesn't care that he probably shouldn't leave, especially without telling anyone, all he cares about is getting to her.

. . . .

Deeks hurriedly pulls into a parking spot outside of the hospital and turns off the ignition but he can't seem to make himself get out of the car. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he takes a few deep breaths as a myriad of conflicting emotions rush at him.

He's trying to find comfort in Sam's assurance that Kensi is alive, but not so deep down, he's terrified that she isn't going to be okay. And he's angry that he wasn't there to have her back and angry that bad things always seem to happen when they are separated. And he is desperately trying to ignore the fact that the last time he was at a hospital, he had lost Thapa.

Mostly though, he's just anxious to see her, anxious to touch her, and anxious to hold her.

Letting out one more big breath, he gathers himself and steps out of the car. Striding purposefully through the doors of the hospital, he almost immediately sees Sam, who is leaning against a wall as though he has been waiting for Deeks to arrive.

"What happened, Sam?" the question comes out louder and more forceful than Deeks had intended but Sam doesn't blink at the harsh tone in his voice.

"Two gunshot wounds," Sam can practically see the air leave Deeks' lungs as soon as the words leave his mouth and the pained look in the detective's eyes is one that Sam knows all too well. He's been there – he knows the feelings of helplessness that take over when your partner is injured or when the woman you love is in danger – but even he isn't sure he's ever felt exactly what Deeks must be feeling right now, when he thinks about the fact that Kensi is _both_ of those people to him.

Taking a quick breath, he continues, "One did a little more than graze her upper arm. Flesh wound, probably just needs stitches. The other was high in the chest. No exit wound. She went into surgery just before you called me."

"Damn it," Deeks exhales loudly and his eyes are darting around, desperately seeking something to focus on before he finally closes them and takes a deep breath. He feel Sam's strong grip on his shoulder.

"Let's go sit down, we'll wait for the doctor."

Opening his eyes, Deeks looks at Sam and gives a slight nod, "Right, yeah. Let's go."

As they walk down the hallway, something in the hospital gift shop catches Deeks' eye, "Hold up," he mumbles to Sam as he abruptly turns into the store. Returning a couple of minutes later with a plastic bag, he holds it out for Sam to peek inside.

Sam claps him on the shoulder as he lets out a laugh, "She'll love it."

. . . .

They've been sitting in companionable silence for almost an hour and up until now, Deeks has surprised even himself with how calm he has been considering the love of his life is in surgery because she took a bullet to the chest.

Calm is a relative term, of course. The reality is, Deeks can't stop himself from getting up to pace from one side of the waiting area to the other every ten minutes, and the silence in the room is laced with worry. But Deeks hasn't yet burst through the operating room doors in search of Kensi, so he considers that a win.

Sam is the only one sitting – he's been in the same seat since they got back to the waiting area and Callen left to help Eric and Nell try and track down the shooter. And while he appears calm, Deeks can tell he's on edge – the number of times Sam has pulled out his phone to check for updates from his partner is bordering on compulsive.

Deeks is grateful that Sam is the one waiting with him. Deeks knows that on many levels, Sam probably understands what he is feeling right now and even though they haven't talked about anything at all in the past hour, his presence is comforting.

Dropping himself into the uncomfortable chair next to Sam, Deeks leans forward with his elbows on his knees and turns to his friend. His voice is quiet and there is an unmistakable sadness in his tone, "What if she's not okay, Sam?"

* * *

_..tbc.._

* * *

_And the story got away from me a bit, so while I was originally planning only two chapters, that's not going to cut it so there will be one more.  
_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - I apologize for how long it took for me to get this finished. Real life got in the way a bit.

* * *

_Dropping himself into the uncomfortable chair next to Sam, Deeks leans forward with his elbows on his knees and turns to his friend. His voice is quiet and there is an unmistakable sadness in his tone, "What if she's not okay, Sam?"_

_. . . ._

Sam leans back in his chair and gives him a sympathetic smile. He sees the desperation and unspoken plea in the detective's eyes, as Deeks tries to garner the tiniest slivers of hope as they wait for news.

"She will be," Sam answers after a few seconds, more confidence in his words than may be warranted right now. "Kensi's one of the strongest people I know. A fighter," he claps Deeks on the back, "And she's in good hands here."

"Yeah…" Deeks lets out a slow breath and nods slowly. "I should have been there," he mumbles, mostly to himself.

"It wouldn't have changed anything, man," Sam replies gently.

Deeks stares at his feet, silently begging himself to listen to Sam. He replays what he can envision about the events of the afternoon in his mind for what seems like the thousandth time since Sam gave him the details of what took place.

Deep down, he knows that this could have happened even if he had been with her instead of holed up at LAPD headquarters – it could have happened any day in the last five years. That knowledge doesn't stop him from imagining all the ways he thinks he could have kept Kensi from getting hurt.

Maybe he would have noticed the car a second sooner. Maybe he would have been able to warn her faster so she could have taken cover. Maybe it would have been him in surgery right now simply because she would have been on the driver's side of the car.

He wishes it _was_ him.

"This sucks," he grunts in frustration and pushes himself out of his chair so suddenly that it startles Sam, "What's taking so long?" He asks no one in particular as he resumes his pacing. He's past trying to mask the frustration he's feeling at not knowing how his girlfriend is doing.

He reaches the far wall for what seems like the umpteenth time and when he turns back toward where Sam is seated, he is surprised to see Hetty occupying the chair on the other side of Sam, speaking to him in hushed tones.

"Hetty," he calls out as he hastily makes his way over, "what's going on? Have you heard anything about Kensi?"

She shakes her head sadly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Deeks, I'm afraid I don't know any more than either of you."

"Oh," his gaze drops to his feet.

"I was just telling Mr. Hanna that Mr. Callen requires his assistance—"

Deeks' head snaps up, "Did you find something? Do you have a lead on Kensi's shooter?" He interrupts as the questions spill out of him at rapid speed.

Hetty does not respond right away as she studies Deeks, trying to gauge exactly how much information the undoubtedly emotionally unstable detective can handle.

Sensing her hesitation, Deeks takes a deep breath and appeals to her more carefully, "Hetty…please. I'm not getting anything from anyone here. I need to hear something even remotely good."

She nods slowly, "Eric and Nell believe they've located the car used in the shooting. I'm sending Sam and Mr. Callen to look for the driver."

"Good," he sighs, "That's uh…that's good."

He glances at the main doors that lead to the operating rooms – doors that haven't opened once in the hour and a half that they've been here – hoping that one piece of good news will bring even more.

He feels a strong hand rest briefly on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Hang in there, Deeks," Sam gives him a hopeful smile, "We'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, Sam," Deeks nods in response, "And, uh, save me a piece of him."

As he watches Sam walk away, Deeks is acutely aware of Hetty's gaze boring into the back of his head. "Is everything okay, Hetty?" He prompts without turning around.

"Well, Mr. Deeks," she starts as he turns and lowers himself into the chair just vacated by Sam, "I had the misfortune of having a rather unpleasant conversation with Lieutenant Bates earlier. It seems as though you may have failed to mention you were leaving early this afternoon."

"How mad is he?" Deeks knows he doesn't need to defend his actions to Hetty, though Bates probably deserves a phone call.

"Oh he was rather fired up," Hetty chuckles, "but after I explained the situation he was much more understanding."

A brief, grateful smile appears on his face, "Thank you, Hetty. I'll call him later."

"Please see that you do, Mr. Deeks." After a beat, she continues, "Should I assume you will also call Miss Blye's mother?"

Deeks clears his throat and stares at his hands resting in his lap, "Yeah. I, uh, I haven't yet. I wanted to wait until I knew more, until I had more to tell her..." He trails off as he sees a middle-aged woman, dressed in blue scrubs, making her way through the doors and walking towards them.

"Are you here for Kensi Blye?" she asks as she stops in front of the pair who are now on their feet.

For as long as Deeks has been waiting for someone to come out and talk to him about Kensi's status, he suddenly finds himself frozen in place – without the words to even confirm who he is and fearful of what the doctor has to say. He notices that she doesn't look sad or apologetic and it gives him hope that she is delivering good news. Or as good as the news can be considering why they're all here right now.

"Yes, we're here for Miss Blye," Hetty's response breaks him out of his stupor. "Hetty Lange," she gestures to herself, "Kensi works for me. This is Mr. Deeks, her part—"

"Boyfriend," he cuts Hetty off and steps forward to shake the surgeon's hand, "and you can call me Marty."

"Dr. Anderson," the woman gives Deeks a warm smile, "And she's going to be fine. The graze to her arm is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, just a few stitches and it will be a bit sore for a week or so. We were able to extract the bullet from her chest, she did lose quite a bit of blood but thankfully, the bullet deflected away from any major organs although it did crack a rib. She's very lucky, it could have been a lot worse."

Deeks lets out the breath he feels like he's been holding for the past two hours and the dull ache in his heart is already forgotten. He has more questions about things like recovery time and when she can come home, but for now, he only needs the answer to one question.

"Can I see her?" he practically begs.

"She is being moved to her room right now and likely won't be awake for another hour or so but you are welcome to sit with her," the doctor explains, "Though, I can only allow one at a time into her room."

Almost reflexively, Deeks looks to Hetty as though seeking her permission to go. It doesn't escape him how ridiculous that is – as if he was going to go anywhere else or let Hetty be the one to sit with Kensi. Evidently, years of looking to Hetty for orders and directions are difficult to ignore.

Gratefully, Hetty simply pats him on the arm and gives him a slight nod, "Let us know when she wakes up, Mr. Deeks."

"Of course…yeah," he replies quickly before he grabs the plastic bag from his gift shop purchase and turns to follow the doctor.

"So, Marty, is there anything I need to know about Kensi before she wakes up?" Dr. Anderson asks as they make their way through the halls.

Deeks smirks at the woman and he almost pities her for being responsible for Kensi's care while she's here, "She'll probably tell you she's fine as soon as you ask how she's feeling and then she'll want to know when she can go home," he shrugs at the slightly disbelieving look the doctor is giving him, "And you'll have a hard time getting her to agree to take anything stronger than ibuprofen. And she will be hungry."

"She's a tough cookie, huh?" Dr. Anderson jokes as they reach the door to Kensi's room.

"Oh, Doc, you have _no_ idea."

She chuckles and pushes the door open, gesturing for Deeks to enter, "You can stay as long as you want, a nurse or I will check on her periodically. Let us know if you need anything."

He steps inside the room and as Dr. Anderson turns to leave, Deeks gently reaches for her arm, "Thank you," his tone is sincere and his gaze is intense, "Thank you for taking care of her."

The doctor nods and gives him a gentle smile before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Turning to look at Kensi for the first time, Deeks inhales sharply. He's never seen her like this before – covered in bandages, surrounded by beeping hospital machines, an IV in her arm – it's almost too much for him but he's just so grateful that she's alive that he can't stop staring at her.

He slowly makes his way over to the side of her bed and reaches out to gently stroke her arm. He takes in her peaceful appearance – her features are relaxed, her hair quite messy, and he thinks she's still so beautiful. He desperately wishes he could hold her but settles for a long kiss to her forehead instead. Breathing in, he hates that she doesn't smell like the Kensi he knows and loves. The sterile scents of the hospital have replaced the smell of sunshine and gunpowder (and sugary snacks) that he's used to.

After a quick peck to her cheek, Deeks pulls a chair as close to the bed as he can and lowers himself into it. Then, grabbing hold of her hand, he starts talking.

"_The first time I met you – as Agent Blye, not Tracy – I didn't know how I was going to survive working with such a closed off, serious, and stubborn woman…"_

He talks to her because he can't stand the beeping of the machines being the only thing he hears – as relieved as he is that those beeps mean her heart is beating, it also reminds him where they are and he doesn't need any reminders.

"_The first time you were in serious danger – trapped in that room with all the lasers – I didn't know how I was going to forgive myself if I couldn't get you out safely…"_

He talks to her because he misses getting to talk to her all day since he's been back at LAPD and he hopes that she misses it too, even though she jokes with him that it's quiet at work for the first time since he joined their team.

"_The first time I kissed you – _really_ kissed you, during the Sidorov case – I didn't know how I was ever going to stop…"_

He talks to her because he wants his voice to be the first thing she hears when she wakes up.

Looking at his watch, he realizes he's been rambling on for over an hour. He drags his free hand over his face and exhales loudly.

"Come on, Kens, wake up," he pleads, "You gotta wake up…because the first time I tell you how much I love you, you need to pretend like you had no idea and cover up how much you like it by telling me I'm just being sappy because you got shot."

With a small grunt of frustration, Deeks drops his head to the mattress, his hand still firmly holding onto Kensi's.

"I love you too," her voice is weak and raspy and barely audible, "And you are being a little sappy."

Deeks' head snaps up, his eyes wide, and when he sees his girlfriend's mismatched eyes looking back at him, the relief that floods him is palpable.

"Kensi," he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. He kisses the hand he's been holding and then stands and presses a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

"Guess it was my turn to get shot, huh?" Kensi winces as she shifts into a more comfortable position. The pain in her arm is sharp while her chest throbs with a dull, pulsing sensation and she's suddenly grateful for whatever drugs they currently have her on.

Deeks lets out a humorless chuckle, "I gotta say, I was okay with you not having a turn."

"Yeah," closing her eyes, she drops her head back against the pillow and sighs, "me too."

When she feels his fingers skim her temple, Kensi relaxes under his touch and leans her head closer to him. After a moment, she opens her eyes and studies him as he methodically brushes her hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. The tired, haunted expression he wears is the same one she remembers after she was rescued in Afghanistan. She had forgotten how much she hates that look.

Reaching for his other hand, she gives it a quick squeeze, "Hey, are you doing okay?"

He gives her a soft smile, "I don't know if I'm okay yet, but I'm much better than I was a couple hours ago." He turns his hand over and laces their fingers together, "You scared me, Fern."

She nods slowly, "I'm going to be fine, right? Just a couple of new scars?" she asks as she runs her fingers gently over the gauze covering her wounds.

"Graze to your arm," he points to her right arm, "A few stitches and it will be sore. The other bullet cracked a rib and lodged itself below your collarbone. Doctor had to go in and get it, but yeah, you'll be fine," he gives her a pointed look, "Might even be _good _eventually."

Shaking her head, Kensi sighs again, "When can we go home?"

Before Deeks can respond, the click of the door opening interrupts them.

"He told me you were going to ask that," Dr. Anderson laughs as she enters the room. "And let me guess, you're feeling fine and I'm going to have to put him," she nods at Deeks, "in charge of your pain meds if I have any chance of getting you to take them?"

Kensi glares at Deeks, who is trying and failing to keep a straight face, but the amused twinkle in her eyes betrays her, "He does know me pretty well," she concedes.

"I'm Dr. Anderson," she introduces herself, "I performed your surgery. It's good to see you awake, Kensi. And to answer your question," the doctor explains as she examines Kensi's wounds and checks on her vitals, "you can probably go home the day after tomorrow. You lost a good amount of blood so we want to make sure your blood pressure remains stable."

Unsurprisingly, Kensi huffs in frustration and gives Deeks a pleading look that screams "_Get me out of here!_"

"Kens," he shakes his head sympathetically, "we're staying."

Dr. Anderson smiles apologetically and pats Kensi's foot as she turns to leave, "A nurse will come by to check on you later, but you're in pretty good hands already. Get some rest, both of you."

As Deeks watches the door shut slowly, he plops down in his chair and turns towards his girlfriend, "I wish I had been there…"

"Deeks," she gives him a sad look, "you know it probably wouldn't have mattered." She has no doubts that he's thinking of all the ways he could have prevented this, or that maybe it could have been him instead, or how he wishes it _was_ him instead.

He nods and leans forward to rest his elbows on the side of her bed, "I know," he says softly, "But it's my job to keep you safe."

"I think that's my line," Kensi laughs lightly as she reaches out to push a few unruly curls out of his face.

"Well, I guess now it's mine too. Although," he smirks at her, humor creeping back into his voice, "I bet I could get used to playing Nurse Deeks when we get you home. I think you'll need a lot of sponge baths," he raises his eyebrows suggestively, "and lucky for you, I can help with those."

"Oh yeah? That makes me lucky?" she teases.

"Mm-hmm," he nods confidently, "I know Detective Deeks turns you on, but I'm pretty sure Nurse Deeks can get your heart racing too."

Kensi snorts, "Just as long as you don't talk about severed pinkies."

"Yeah, no…" Deeks chuckles and ruffles the hair on the back of his head, "that was uh...that was a stupid idea."

When he looks over to Kensi, she's nodding slowly, with a small smile on her face, but her eyes are growing heavy and she looks as though she's seconds away from falling asleep.

He reaches out to stroke her arm, "Go to sleep Kens, I'll be right here."

"Uh-uh," she shakes her head quickly and forces her eyes to open fully, "I need-" she's cut off as a huge yawn overtakes her.

When she looks back towards Deeks, he's placing a plastic bag beside her on the bed. As she peeks inside, a wide grin splits her face and she gives him a look of great appreciation.

"I need food," she finishes as she pulls a box out of the bag, noticing there are three identical boxes left, "and you brought me Twinkies."

He laughs as he watches her inhale the first one and immediately reach for a second, "Sam mentioned you missed lunch. Plus," he moves the bag to the floor and takes its place next to her, "I figured you would need some cheering up and I knew it would make you smile."

"Thank you," she replies genuinely as she grabs his hand, tugging him toward her to place a kiss on his cheek. "I might love Detective Deeks and I'll probably like Nurse Deeks too," she pauses until he meets her gaze, "but Boyfriend Deeks is my favorite."

"You're so cheesy," he jokes, reaching out with his finger to tap her on the nose.

Kensi lets out another huge yawn, "Yeah…" she is clearly fighting a losing battle with sleep as she struggles to keep her eyes open, "you must be rubbing off on me."

Deeks smooths her hair back and places a slow kiss to her forehead, "You love it," he whispers as her eyes drift shut one more time. A sense of calm washes over him as he breathes her in one more time. For as off-kilter as he's felt over the past few weeks and for as helpless as he felt most of the day, moments like this with her are what keep him balanced.

Settling back into his chair, he holds onto her hand and thinks she's fallen asleep when he feels her gently squeeze his fingers, "I do," her voice heavy with sleep and barely a whisper.

"I do too, Fern. I do too."

_..end.._

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A/N again - Just a quick thank you for everyone who read, followed, favorited and/or reviewed. This was a bit outside my comfort zone as a writer but your feedback has been a great motivator. I hope you enjoyed it!


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